


Heard you wanted me?

by Astray



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 'let's kill Bly with sex 101', (cutting clothes away with sharp things do count), Knifeplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, Wolffe's voice is a warning, consensual power struggle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: While hanging out with his fellow officers, it comes out that one of the few vode who had never made a move on - or been made a move on by - Wolffe was Bly. Of course, this terrible state of affairs must be remedied, effective immediately.





	Heard you wanted me?

They were having a fine time at 79’s, and it was an unofficial way to celebrate Fox now owning the place. He had kept all the staff, raised wages, and while he could not run the place, he kept things as they were. Just ensuring that no one else would buy the place to eventually chase their  _ vode  _ from there. But according to Cody, it was just an excuse to raise wages and use his money. They did not earn much, so Bly suspected this was a project Fox had kept going from the start. 

“Spacing out, Bly.” Count on Fox for catching him at it. 

“You’re too serious,  _ vod _ .”

“I’m not!” He exclaimed. 

Neyo snorted. “Yep, and Fox is not banging half the table.”

“Jealous, Neyo?” Fox was leering now. “Besides, Wolffe is the popular one.”

Wolffe merely shook his head and went back to whatever conversation he was having with Ponds. Bly wanted to sink under the table. If people could please not remind him? Because if there was one  _ vod _ Bly would happily chuck his clothes for, well. Except they rarely met, and when they did, there was no time to actually get to ask. Bly would wait for a more opportune moment. He clutched the napkin Alema had slipped him shortly after they had arrived.  _ If you don’t jump at least one of them, I’m siccing Vrei on your table _ . He knew they would. 

“Aye. Good luck finding anyone who never made a move on him.” Thanks Fox, that was helpful. Not helpful at all. Bly glared at him, but Fox was grinning like a loon in Cody’s direction. 

“Or been made a move on.” No, Rex, honestly, why must you too? 

“Don’t have to look too far to find one.” It took him a moment to compute the fact that Wolffe had spoken up and was staring right back at him. He was screwed. So completely, absolutely screwed. 

There were whistles and howls. Bly let his head hit the table, mercifully cleared of shots. Someone patted his shoulder and he looked up from the corner of his eye. Teksa. He was not going to hear the end of it. He was faintly aware of Firith getting closer - and was she just telling them off? He could not make out the words, but that was probably it. Gree was shaking his head, Fox acting innocent. He distinctly heard a ‘not picking on him, I swear!’ Yes, bloody likely. Thankfully, his  _ vode  _ were now distracted, and left him alone. Maybe in a few hours they would all have forgotten about that very awkward moment, and that would be it. 

He had to get up, eventually, because drinking so much while seating was not that great. Speaking from experience. He went to the bar and downed a glass of iced water. He did not notice that he was followed until someone caught him by the waist - one of his fellow commanders, others never did it quite like that. He waited. 

“Heard you wanted me?” Wolffe. There was only one  _ vod  _ with a voice that deep, a growl that rang against his back. And he definitely should not want to melt into him at the sound. He had nothing to say to that either. 

“Everyone wants you.” Wait. He did not say that aloud- Huh, considering the looks he was getting he must have said it aloud indeed. Someone, bury him in a Sarlacc pit.

Wolffe saved him from having to explain that by dragging him to a couch on the side, a bit further from their table. He barely sat down that Wolffe was on top of him, sitting on his lap, knees bracketing Bly’s hips, staring at him with a wicked expression. Bly was definitely screwed. 

Wolffe leaned close, hands on the back of the couch, relaxed. Bly could leave. But he did not want to. He glanced at their table - their  _ vode _ were not paying attention.  _ Yet. _

“And what do you want exactly, Bly?” 

Why was he wearing his greys? He was getting harder with each word Wolffe’s was saying.  _ Spread your legs for me. Good boy. Ah, don’t touch your cock just yet. Hands on your hips - squeeze - I’m sure you’d mark beautifully.  _ He bit his lips - harder when Wolffe pressed against him with his full weight. 

“Bly?” 

He looked up at Wolffe, and part of him was screaming that now was not the time nor place. But the best part of him was not going anywhere. 

“You. All of you.” Whatever he had expected for an answer, he had not expected Wolffe to trace the tattoos on his left cheek, leaning forward - lips on his jaw. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

“Will do.” 

Wolffe rose to face him, smiling with too much teeth. Sharp. He had seen Cody’s scar when they were still on Kamino. The thought made him push back against Wolffe, increasing the pressure, and it was maddening. 

When Wolffe kissed him, it was all that Bly expected, but much more than that. Hungry and deep and hot and Wolffe sucked on his tongue and Bly moaned loudly. He brought his hands up to Wolffe’s face, holding him closer, raking his fingers in his hair. It was different. He had jacked off to Wolffe’s voice, to Wolffe saying what he would do to him. Or anyone. Hands under his shirt, cool - burning his skin. He tensed. 

Wolffe withdrew, licking Bly’s lips as he did. “You been listening to me.” Not a question. Did he speak aloud? 

No point in lying, he nodded - and froze when Wolffe undid the zipper of his greys. Wolffe stopped moving, looking at Bly. He leaned forward to kiss him, nipping his lips. 

“Did I say stop, Commander?” 

“True.” But Wolffe did not touch him again right away, simply kissing him. He spoke again: “Got off listening to me?”

And Bly honestly considered whacking Wolffe on the back of the head for talking about it in a crowded bar, but again, what did he expect? 

“I do.” The answer had come easier than anticipated. But if Wolffe asked, he must have had a reason. 

“ _ Good _ .” The inflection Wolffe used was exactly like the one he used on recordings. Hell, Bly could hear the ‘boy’ that normally followed. Wolffe nuzzled his neck, leading Bly to bare his throat for him.  _ Tip your head back. Wonder how it would feel to get my teeth into you. On the side of your neck. _ Bly instinctively moved his face to the left, giving Wolffe better access - facing away from the officers’ table, just in case. 

Kisses on his neck, and the whispers. “Greys mark so fast… You’re leaking already and I haven’t touched you yet.” Wolffe rocked his hips, making Bly sigh and bite his lips to avoid making any sound. “I want to hear you, Bly.” 

Wolffe’s right hand tracing down his shirt, into his pants - he half-expected him to remark on his underwears but Wolffe did not say anything - fingers curling around his cock - the sensation tearing a moan from him. Moan turns into a whimper as Wolffe began to stroke him - slow and teasing and too much already. Wolffe’s thighs and knees pressing against him. Bly reached for him - he had to do something with his hands. Put them on Wolffe’s hips - fuck, he could feel the heat of his skin through the blacks - dug his thumbs in the hollows of his hips.  _ So close to where Wolffe had branded Cody _ . 

There was something heady about having Wolffe jerking him off in the middle of the bar - Wolffe’s body hiding them. Thumb under his head, then over - teasing. 

“Wolffe.” His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Barely audible even to him. 

“Yes?”

“Not here.” He did not want Wolffe to stop, in all honesty. But he was getting way too close - frustration only took him so far. He had wanted - fantasized - sometimes craved. He wanted so much more, and no way he was getting it in public. 

“Alright if I take the edge off now, and more once we find somewhere more private.” Bly barely had time to agree that Wolffe used his free hand to push Bly’s head back - the ceiling was rather bare - and nipped at his neck. He was panting, Wolffe’s strokes firmer. He clawed at Wolffe’s back, arching his back to get closer to him. He ducked to the side to Wolffe’s neck. He wanted to touch him. His left hand trailing down Wolffe’s chest, his abdomen - and got a growl for his troubles.

“Not now, Bly. Right now, it’s you, just you.” Wolffe turned away, but Bly did not follow. “We got an audience.” Wolffe mouthing his neck, nipping his earlobe. “Fox is watching, Bly. He’s probably palming himself under the table at this rate.” 

The notion should have made Bly run - but it did not. Instead, he leaned back to look at Fox. Even from there, it was obvious Fox was getting very worked up. It felt empowering. He would be lying if he said he was not interested at all. But it had never come up. You had to be blind and deaf not to know about Fox’s habits. Proclivities. Kinks? Being watched was not something Bly ever considered to be a turn on - quite the opposite. But the hunger he could see on Fox’s face… that was something else. 

“Like to be watched, Bly? Fuck, your cock is twitching.” 

Bly keened as low as he could. He could feel it, and the way Wolffe was rocking his hips on top of him. 

“You make me want to get on my knees for you. Putting on a show…”

Bly flopped back against the back of the seat, and pushed back against Wolffe. 

“Not sure I want the whole bar to see you naked, though.” Wolffe grinned. “Unless you do? Or maybe it’s just because it’s Fox watching…” 

Bly made a sound at the back of his throat as his breath caught. He could not look away from Fox, and even if he could not hear him, it was obvious Fox was making interesting sounds. Something in the way Rex carried himself proved that he had heard Fox, and chose to ignore him. But Bly did not miss the furtive glance Rex cast them, the half-smile, and how he distracted Cody. Nothing unusual and- Wait, was Firith cheering him on from behind Fox’s back. He was distracted by Wolffe’s teeth on his neck. 

“What do we do, Bly? Do we let this poor, horny Fox join us? Or would you rather keep it between the two of us?”

Bly could not answer this in words, quite honestly. And he wanted Wolffe, he really did. But he would be damned if he said no to that proposition. Wolffe kept him from answering just yet by kissing him hard. Pushing him back against the couch, exposing his neck and fuck, his touch was so light now - not enough. Just for an instant, before he was stroking him in earnest - and fuck, that bastard had apparently mapped all of his reactions because it only took him seconds before Bly was whimpering into his mouth, hands on his thighs, clawing at him. 

“Do we invite Fox over, Bly?” 

Oh fuck, that growl. He was done. He barely registered his own voice cracking on his answer -  _ yes, let him join them, let him in, don’t stop, Wolffe!  _ And he did not. Bly was incapable of tracking what did him in - Wolffe’s touch, the sensation of his teeth into his neck, Fox staring at them - he came, whimpering, his whole body shaking - trying to arch over the couch but held down by Wolffe’s weight. Hips stuttering under the strain. Grappling at Wolffe’s body. Eyes shut, he could barely breathe. 

Soon distracted by additional weight. He opened his eyes to Fox leaning against Wolffe, licking Wolffe’s hand clean - sharing with him - staring at Bly. Bly’s brain fried at this.  _ Fox was licking his  _ come  _ from Wolffe’s fingers _ . Wolffe smirked and pushed his fingers against Fox’s mouth, who took to sucking on them. Bly could not help moaning at the sight. He was so much beyond embarrassment at this point. The way Wolffe was rocking against him - fuck. 

Fox finally let go of Wolffe and slid on the couch next to Bly, smiling like the proverbial lothcat. He cupped his face, tracing Bly’s markings with his thumb. 

“You taste good, Bly. And I’d love to see you wrecked.” 

When Fox kissed him, it was so different from Wolffe - less aggressive, surely - he could taste himself on Fox’s tongue. He had a piercing, and  _ don’t think of how it’d feel on your cock _ \- Hands under his shirt, higher. Fox licking into his mouth, and Bly let him, light headed and pliant as he was. 

A low growl from Wolffe, and Fox withdrew, licking his lips. Eyes darker. 

“Let’s go elsewhere.” 

Oh yeah, moving, Good. Because he could do without an audience. And he wanted to see them naked - he was only human, after all. 

“My room.” Fox got up swiftly while Wolffe was making sure Bly was… presentable. Bly was rather surprised that they made it upstairs without stopping too much - aside from the moment Fox pushed him back against Wolffe to kiss him - and Wolffe’s hands on his hips - Fox pressing against his thigh. That left him breathless, if still a bit too sensitive. 

His greys chaffed, even with the extra layer of underwear. It chaffed his entire body. He was fairly sure he would have slipped if Wolffe was not holding him. It was different. Of course it was. The intensity had gone through the roof, and Bly was used to be in charge with  _ vode _ . Except it was Wolffe. And Fox. He moaned in Fox’s mouth, Wolffe’s hold on him tightening. 

“Fox.” The growl resonated against his back, the sound almost too low, and it did things to him. Worse now than ever on any of the broadcast.  

“But,” Fox was speaking against Bly’s lips, “he tastes so nice.” A roll of Fox’s hips that got Bly arching his back for him. “You do, Bly, you really do.”

“Room.” 

Bly was mildly grateful for Wolffe because his brain was having a hard time processing the going-ons at the moment. And sure, their refractory period was short, but combined with the alcohol, and being stuck between the two of them. He pushed back against Wolffe - he was hard -  _ wow, surprising. Go you, genius _ . And Fox. His brain fried.  _ Fuck me. _

“Oh, we will, Bly. Fuck you, wreck you, make sure you don’t forget it.” Wolffe’s voice, and Fox’s hand - just before they moved again. And fuck, he did speak aloud. 

He did not have much time to think about it - or find an airlock to throw himself in - they made it to a room. Away from most of the noise of the club. The door closed, and Fox was back in front of him, smirking. But now that they were away from prying eyes. Bly smirked back, and caught Fox’s hips, turning so that Fox was between him and the wall. 

He kissed him hard, enjoying thoroughly the sounds Fox was making, how his fingers dug into his shoulders and neck. He nipped his lips, crowding him against the wall, sliding his thigh between Fox’s legs. Fox moaned loudly, making Bly smile against his mouth. Hands on his hips, Wolffe’s solid frame against his back - hot mouth on his neck - teeth - the bite sharp, startling him, immediately soothed by open mouthed kisses. Wolffe’s hands under his shirt. 

Bly trailed kisses down Fox’s throat - feeling the sounds he made, his breathing - and tugged at the zipper of his blacks. Wolffe was working his shirt open - Fox caught his hands.

Bly groaned at the disruption, and it turned into a growl when Fox spoke -  _ wait.  _ But he stopped, and leaned back against Wolffe, who was mouthing at his neck - did he knew that he purred?

“On the bed,  _ vod. _ ” Damn and he thought Wolffe’s voice was murder? Fox’s was sultry, and it would haunt him.

He had no idea how he ended up on the bed staring at Wolffe and Fox who were standing. Just that no one threw him there - Wolffe  _ did _ carry him - and that he was not allowed to move. Right now, moving would mean either looking away or getting involved. He could not. He did not want them to stop. 

Not when Fox was practically hanging from Wolffe’s shoulders, pressed against him so hard that it accentuated the curve of his spine. Blacks were nothing more than paint on their skin - and Fox’s ass was one of the most beautiful things in life at that point. Bly followed the path of Wolffe’s hands on Fox’s back - cupping his ass, bringing him closer until Fox was rutting against Wolffe, mouthing at his neck. 

“Fox…” 

Fox whined, and Bly was not feeling much better. Wolffe said something to Fox, too softly for Bly to hear, but the wicked smile that bloomed on Fox’s face was a tell-tale sign. 

Bly could only watch as Wolffe slowly undid Fox’s black, holding the zipper in his teeth. He peeled the fabric from Fox’s chest and shoulders, but his hands stayed trapped. As Wolffe explored Fox’s skin - it caught the light, looked so soft, even with his scars - with his mouth, hands holding Fox’s hips. 

Bly could not decide if he wanted to be in Fox’s place or Wolffe’s, at this point. There were studs on Fox’s nipples that caught the light and Bly suddenly felt the urge to toy with them, run his tongue on the metal, to learn how to undo Fox. Wolffe’s fingers under the waistband of Fox’s blacks- Fox freed his hands and caught Wolffe’s wrist with his right hand, and wrapped his left hand around Wolffe’s throat, forcing his head back, snarling. 

“Not yet.”

Bly did not imagine the growl Wolffe made, but he did not try to fight Fox. Wolffe visibly relaxed, leaving Fox in control. Fox leaned forward to kiss Wolf - it was almost brutal, possessive, and Bly was left panting. The hand that was on Wolffe’s wrist moved up to Wolffe’s throat. His touch careful. Bly could not tear his eyes away. If Wolffe being in charge was a definite ‘yes’, Fox taking the lead was closer to a ‘hell yes’. 

“I think Bly likes it when I mess with you, Wolffe.” Fox had spoken loud enough for Bly to hear him, even with his face close to Wolffe’s neck. He did not wait for an answer. Instead, he caught the zipper of Wolffe’s blacks between his teeth and slowly slid it down, until he was kneeling in front of Wolffe, his hands trailing behind, light on Wolffe’s chest. 

Bly could not help arching his back when Fox mouthed Wolffe’s cock through his black, and while Wolffe did not move, he tensed. Fuck. Fox holding Wolffe’s hips the whole time, taking his time. Bly moaned - the fabric was starting to chafe, his skin too sensitive, and the pressure - he needed to touch himself, or for someone to touch him. He could not stay like this. 

“Bly is distracted, Fox.” 

Aaaaand, apparently he had said it out loud. Where were your filters when you needed them? Fox let go, sitting back on his haunches, before he stared back at Bly. 

“Overly dressed,  _ vod _ ?”

“Yes.” It was barely a hiss - breathing harder made it worse. He did not dare move more. Wolffe shed the opened blacks, and no, Bly did not map out all the scars that he could see. He had heard that Wolffe was tattooed, but had never seen it. He had never seen Wolffe out of his blacks since they left Kamino, or close to it. Bly was not exactly a twig himself, but Wolffe looked massive - or maybe it was the scars, or the eye, or just how he was - could be anything. 

Both Wolffe and Fox prowled the bed to reach him, and honestly, Bly did not mind being dinner. Wolffe kissed him first, and moved away only because Fox pushed him away. Bly barely had time to breathe that Fox was kissing him, one hand in his hair, scratching lightly. 

“I have an idea for your greys, Bly. Unless you are dead set against borrowing new ones.” 

Oh well, it was not like it could get much worse anyway, was it? “Go ahead.” 

The grin that answered him made him think about a prowling strill and maybe he bit more than he could chew. 

“Close your eyes and don’t peek, Bly.” Bly did as he was told and relaxed as much as he could. He trusted them. For now, he had a clear sense of where they were, but then, Fox moved away. He felt a draft of air, and the shift of his weight on the mattress. Shortly after, cold metal on his left wrist. A blade, he could feel the edge. Wolffe was holding it. The madmen wanted to cut his greys off. The mere suggestion had him drawing a shaky breath, before he asked them to go on. 

Ice-cold steel - absolutely silence but their breathing and he could hear the fabric’s threads giving way under the pressure of the blade. Burning cold trail on his skin as it moved up his arm, until the blade reached the shoulder. On his neck and down. Shivers followed the steel along, until it left his skin. The fabric carefully peeled away - air feeling cold on his skin. 

Wolffe kissed his neck, and followed the path of the blade, licking and kissing his skin, and Bly lost track of Fox, focused as he was on Wolffe. Wolffe kissed him, slow and thorough, his left hand on Bly’s inner thigh, pulling his legs apart, drawing circles that electrified his skin from under the fabric. Blade on his right arm, cutting the fabric away much like Wolffe had done, except Fox was applying slightly more pressure. Bly kissed Wolffe back harder, biting his lower lip, and sucking on his tongue, drawing a moan from him. 

The flat of the blade on his neck, pressure - Fox did not need to speak. Bly understood - the possessiveness that probably was new, and he made a mental note to keep track of these cues. They were all here to have a good time, and there was no point of being an ass to Fox. 

They peeled the fabric from his shoulders, arms and chest, and there was a lull where Bly only felt them shift. Rising on their knees, silent. And then they fell on him, kissing, licking, biting at his chest, their hands smoothing his skin, mapping out scars. 

Wolffe found the one on his side, the reminder that burns never should be left to turn into blisters, lest your blacks started to mesh with your healing flesh. Wolffe’s touch was careful, but he still planted a bite right under the scar, across his ribs, making Bly cry out as he jerked upward. Fox growled against his neck, teeth nipping the tendon, but otherwise gentle. 

 Blades pressed flat on his hips, and when Bly pressed against them, he heard the fabric give way. Neither move, and Bly could not see them, but he was fairly sure they were observing him. 

“Please.” Not begging, no - just a request. His clothes were chafing, he felt constricted and for all that he enjoyed being the centre of their attentions, he wanted to touch them too. He clenched his fists, short nails digging into his palms. And the knives sailing down his thighs, but this time, hands followed - ice-cold steel and burning palms. Down to his ankles. The tell-tale sound of metal being put down. The rest of his clothes were pushed out of the way, hands mapping out marks and scars on his ankles, calves and thighs. 

Fox leaned close to him, whispering: “More comfortable, right?”

“Let me touch you, please, Fox.” 

“A bit more, Bly. You can open your eyes now, though.” 

And he did, and when his eyes had adjusted to the light, he was greeted by the sight of Wolffe prowling between his legs, hands on either side of Bly’s hips, and bending forward until he caught the last piece of clothing in his teeth. His upper lip brushed Bly’s lower stomach, making him shiver. He felt the faint pressure of Wolffe’s chin on his cock. Fuck he wanted to move so badly, it was maddening. 

Slowly, Wolffe moved downward, eyes fixed on Bly’s. He could not look away. He whimpered when the fabric brushed his overly sensitive skin, feeling Wolffe’s breathing. Hot, making him crave. His heart was hammering in his chest, the tension was starting to make him shake. He was caught between wanting to arch into Wolffe, writhe on the bed, catch Fox to kiss him, all three, _ or just roll on his damn stomach and ask Wolffe to fuck him now _ . He rolled his hips but Wolffe must have anticipated his move, because he pulled back first. 

Bly did not need to look at Fox to know he was staring at him. Wolffe was looking too, and fuck it was that was not heady, to have that particular  _ vod _ , one who had featured in his fantasies quite often, looking at him with raw hunger etched all over his face. 

There was a lull in the moment, before the tension rose again with their breathing, and Bly felt just how easy it was - to breathe with them, ready to move with them. Wolffe’s and Fox’s hands hovering his skin, he could feel the static, their warmth. Fox’s hands seemed cooler, soothing. 

“You can touch him now, Bly.” Fox’s voice silky as his lips on the shell of his ear. “But make no mistake: you’re the one getting fucked tonight, until there is not a thought in your head.”

“I won’t fuck you right away, even if you ask me.” Wolffe’s grin was predatory. 

He did not think, he pushed himself up on his hands until he had enough leverage to sit on Wolffe’s thighs.  _ Hard muscles, and his hard cock against his through the damn nanoprene _ . He kissed him, running his fingers through Wolffe’s hair, down his neck, his back. Changes in texture - tattoos. Wolffe’s hands on his ass, holding him. He kissed Wolffe hard, licking into his mouth, until they were both moaning. It was not enough. Fox coming up against his back - more slender, just as tall - naked. Lips on his neck, hands on his chest. He arched into Fox’s touch, pushing against Wolffe, when Fox started toying with his nipples. 

Bly clawed at Wolffe’s back when Wolffe pushed him back against Fox. Hands on his ass still, spreading him and _fuck, Fox’s cock slid against his ass, and that definitely felt like he had mods going on and it was too much and_ fuck! Wolffe was grazing his teeth against his neck, Fox’s arms crossed around his chest - and _raking his nails across his chest_. He moaned loudly, rolling his hips to get more of that terrible, teasing friction, and he turned his head to mouth at Fox’s neck, exposing his to Wolffe’s teeth.

Wolffe’s bite was harsh, but he relented just as fast - heat blooming under his skin after the initial sharp pain.  Bly let out a strangled moan against Fox’s skin, hips jerking, as he ground against Wolffe. Wolffe, who was still wearing his lower blacks. Fox followed and  _ it felt so damn good _ . Wolffe’s hands on his hips, steadying him, as he inched backward. Until Bly was kneeling on the bed, Fox grinding against him, kissing and mouthing at the nape of his neck, his hands coursing over scars and tattoos. Wolffe rose, and kissed him again - hot, hungry, one hand tilting his head back, the other skirting the inside of his thigh, so close, so fucking close- 

“Not yet, Bly. You seem to enjoy Fox, so I think I’ll sit back and enjoy… the show.” 

Wolffe dipped his head, hand leaving Bly’s leg to entangle in Fox’s hair - Fox’s face leaving his skin abruptly. The sound of them kissing, the growls and whimpers - the way Fox was shaking,  _ shit his cock was twitching _ and it did things to him and he was not going to survive this night, he was not. Precome eased Fox’s movements, and damn, he was all for Fox rutting against his ass until he came. 

“So tempting,” Fox’s voice cut through his haze, “I like the visual. Maybe have Wolffe clean you up after? Gotta do something for that oral fixation of his. Or maybe you’d like to know how it feels to have him blow you? No lies, he’s got a wonderful mouth.”

He let out a strangled sound, not quite capable of forming a coherent reply to that. Fox wrapped an arm around his chest and hauled him back until Bly was in his lap - and it felt so damn good - he could melt. Wolffe kissed his way down Bly’s chest, taking his time, hands on his thighs, pushing them apart, and Fox followed, holding him there. He was open, exposed to the hunger he saw in Wolffe. It was a heady feeling. 

Bly fell further back against Fox, and he could feel Fox’s muscles working to keep them both upright. Fox’s right hand slid up his side and chest, before curling around his neck, fingers splayed, his touch non-threatening - the pressure of the heel of his hand on his throat made him swallow thickly. Fox’s other hand left his skin. Bly did not look down - he wanted to feel. 

“You want a taste, Wolffe?” Damn, who let Fox speak in the first place? 

Wolffe’s mouth on the hollow of his left hip - kissing the skin - a whine,  _ fuck, the way Wolffe’s breath felt on him _ . More pressure. Bly glanced down, and choked. Fox’s had his hand in Wolffe’s hair, holding his face on Bly’s hip. Wolffe was staring back at him, and damn, that bastard smirked. 

“Just a taste. Don’t want Bly to come too fast.” 

“Or maybe we do. How does that sound, Bly? So that you’re relaxed and pliant for when time comes to fuck you…”

“Fox- fuck!” It was more of a startled shout when Fox trailed his hand down his throat, scratching his chest - and Wolffe’s bit down on his hip. 

Fox let up, so that Wolffe could move - he rose to face them - seeming still taller than he probably should even if Bly and Fox were sitting back. Wolffe’s left hand cupped his face - and he did the same to Fox with the right one, from what he could see in his peripheral. Thumb on his lower lip, stroking slowly. Bly did not think, he caught it between his lips, sucking Wolffe’s finger lightly, relishing the way Wolffe pressed on his tongue-  _ not enough, it was not enough _ … 

“You got a soft mouth on you, Commander. How would you like to pay Fox back later?” 

His brain came to a screeching halt, because no matter how much he wanted to blow Wolffe right now, the thought of Fox?  _ That piercing probably feels incredible. _

It was impossible for him to think, not when they were holding him, Wolffe pressing closer - kissing Fox above his shoulder. The sounds, their breathing, Fox's moans. Wolffe's hand falling from his face. And then he melted down Bly's body, the movement like water- 

Bly shouted when Wolffe wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, his entire body seizing. His hands flew behind him, holding onto Fox. Fox who had an arm around him, preventing him from moving too much. He was going to die like that. 

"No, not yet." Fox kissed the side of his neck. "Let him hear you." And then, his voice shifted from its casual purr to sharper edges. "Wolffe, time to make sure he can't think anymore." 

He was so damn doomed, he could not think, could not speak, it was everything he knew, but everything felt ten times hotter because _ it was Wolffe _ . _ Wolffe's hot mouth on him, and fuck _ \- He was panting, struggling not to try and fuck his mouth. Wolffe made that rumbling sound, deep in his chest, and he could feel the vibrations. Fox was rolling his hips, and Bly helplessly pressed back against him. Soft sounds falling from Fox's mouth. Of course, Fox knew what it felt like. 

Nails in his thighs, the burn raw, feeding his desire. Wolffe did not stop, tongue caressing his cock as he bobbed his head - harder press that almost stopped his heart and lungs. Hint of teeth.  _ Fuck yes do that again! _ It felt so good, so dangerous - because Wolffe was a biter, and it was safe, and heady and the thoughts were flying around his skull incoherently until they crashed down. 

Crashing higher still as he came, too soon, too hard, Wolffe's name a shout tearing through his chest and throat. Fox let him go, and he would have fucked Wolffe's mouth had he not kept an iron grip on his legs. He felt Wolffe swallow, the sensation keeping him on his high, he could not think of words yet. 

Looking down, he saw the tattoo spanning Wolffe's back and how it shifted with his muscles as he strained. Looked like Wolffe was rutting against the mattress too, or at least keeping the edge off and it made it even worse because if Wolffe was affected- he could not finish the thought, or even remember where it was going, he fell back against Fox with a broken whine, Wolffe lapping  _ \- the animal - _ his cock clean and shit, he was trying to get hard again already, even if he could not and it was not quite painful and he did not want it to end, not yet, not now. 

When Wolffe finally let go, he stared at him like a strill looking up from a kill and fuck if that did not do things to his brain. He was not going to recover… Wolffe licked his lips and moved to kneel in front of Bly. Kissed the corner of his lips, nuzzled his jaw. 

“Gotta share with Fox. You were so good, Bly.” 

Bly shifted to the side, let them rearrange him between them so that he could look. How Fox almost lunged for Wolffe, left hand behind Wolffe’s head, holding him in place. How he licked into Wolffe’s mouth, and Wolffe letting him.  _ Tasting you on Wolffe’s tongue. Chasing- oh shit.  _

He could not - finally found his limbs again, and reaching for them, arm around their neck, almost falling back - how they both pressed against him and they were so hard and leaking - Wolffe through the nanoprene - and they had not asked anything of him yet. He started to speak - and barely got to slur their names that Wolffe was kissing him and shit when was the last time a  _ vod _ kissed him after blowing him because that felt like forever ago. 

Wolffe’s hand on his back, holding him steady as he plundered his mouth - it was the only word to describe the raw hunger with which Wolffe kissed him. Bly barely had time to breathe that Fox replaced Wolffe. Slower, thorough, underlying hunger still, but gentler - until he bit his lips. Licking the bite. 

Fox pushed against him, hands on his hips, until Bly was back to straddling Wolffe - the momentum stopping only when Wolffe was leaning back, braced on his left hand. Bly kissed him, and nipped his lips, earning hum of approval. He did it again, a bit harder, and was rewarded with Wolffe tilting his head back, smirking. The way he was holding himself made Bly want to just…  _ kiss, bite, lick every inch of him, and also, get a good look on the tattoo that was peeking at his sides.  _ Solid black ink. He bit his lips, staring at Wolffe still. 

“Go ahead, Bly.”

Except he had no idea where the fuck to start. Fox behind him, mouthing his neck. Wolffe raising an eyebrow at him, smirk still in place. 

“You’re overdressed.” It was all he said before he fell on Wolffe, starting from his neck. He rose, and Fox moved around to be at Wolffe’s side. Kneeling for now. Wolffe seemed to melt backward, until he was stretched out on the bed, arms above his head. Black lines dipping along his ribcage. 

“Don’t move.” After all, he was offered the possibility to take the initiative. He half-expected either Wolffe or Fox to react, or refuse, but no. Wolffe remained absolutely still. His breathing deep, and for an instant, Bly was entranced by the rise and fall of his chest. He followed after, taking his time. Mapping out Wolffe’s scars with his fingers and tongue. Blasters and way too many falls. Probably broken bones too. He did not ask. Wolffe was silent, even if he was panting by now, but the way he trembled under Bly’s touch. 

“Bly-” 

He looked up, just in time to see Fox with his hand on Wolffe’s throat, tilting his head backward. 

“No moving, Wolffe.” And fuck if that was not a growl coming from Fox. Wolffe bucked under Bly, and he held him down without even thinking, hands gripping his hips. He mouthed a Wolffe’s abs, teeth grazing his skin. Wolffe  _ whined _ . Hunger shot through Bly at that sound. He liked that sound, a lot. 

While Fox was keeping Wolffe focused, Bly kept moving, until he reached the waistband of Wolffe’s blacks. On impulse, he nuzzled Wolffe’s cock through his clothes, relishing the broken sound that he made. He mouthed him, and in spite of the thickness of the garment, he could feel the heat of Wolffe’s body under his lips. He groaned and reflexively rutted against the bed. Needing more already. 

Wolffe stayed still but damn, running his hands up and down his thighs -  _ thick, muscular thighs, and gods if he could convince Wolffe to let him fuck his thighs he was so down for that  _ \- he could feel how tense Wolffe was. Staying still because  _ Bly told him to _ . He was going to die today. 

He reached for the zipper with his teeth, the fabric pulled as taut as it could go, and he undid Wolffe’s blacks slowly. Too slowly - he wanted to have him naked yesterday - and yet, he took the time to peel the fabric from his hips as he went. He did not look, not yet, but kissed the hollow of his right hip before he finished sliding the blacks down Wolffe’s smooth legs. More scars. 

He took his time exploring these too. A long one along the left calf that suspiciously looked like something crushed his armour into his leg. More ink, too.  _ Later, later you’ll ask to see his back _ . Bly glanced at Wolffe, only to find him with his head thrown back against the bed, and Fox whispering. Fox noticed him, though. 

“He’s not allowed to look.”

 


End file.
